


Whose Gaze Sees the Sin in Me

by Bazylia_de_Grean



Series: If Thou Art Broken [3]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 14:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17163983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazylia_de_Grean/pseuds/Bazylia_de_Grean
Summary: She thought that justice would give her peace, in time. That was the right thing to do; the punishment of crimes so terrible Eira does not want to know them all; what little she knows is more than enough. That was the merciful thing to do; she could have destroyed his soul, after all. Reason tells her this is all true. Her heart keeps reminding her that maybe true does not always mean right.





	Whose Gaze Sees the Sin in Me

Dreams come less frequently with every passing year, and the nightmares no longer keep her from sleep all night long… Still, there are memories that make her wake up because of her own screams. Iovara, sometimes – but there was an apology and forgiveness, and even though that terrible part of her past will always hurt, it is a scar, and no longer a gaping wound.

But there is one dream Eira cannot dismiss, cannot soothe her mind by telling herself it is all in the past. Shimmering adra walls. A soul – not Iovara’s. A scream, piercing, slicing through the fabric of her own soul; the most terrible sound she has ever _felt_.

She thought that justice would give her peace, in time. That was the right thing to do; the punishment of crimes so terrible Eira does not want to know them all; what little she knows is more than enough. That was the merciful thing to do; she could have destroyed his soul, after all. Reason tells her this is all true. Her heart keeps reminding her that maybe true does not always mean right.

What she did was against the core Eothasian belief. Redemption – yes, maybe, there is a small – negligible – chance Thaos’ imprisonment might result in that. But it was not why she left him there, it was not on her mind back then – the gods see the reason, not only the outcome of her actions – and even if they did not see or care, _she_ does. She chose justice, believing it was the only choice – and denied her faith by refusing him mercy.

Sometimes, another image appears beneath her eyelids when she sleeps. Thaos’ face, smiling – a small smile, barely noticeable – triumphant. She might have seen it back in the past, during the Inquisition times – but not in Breith Eaman. Those dreams – eerily quiet and calm, more and more frequent – make her wake up drenched in cold sweat.

Eira tells herself that her conscience is too sensitive, that she did what she had to – but guilt gnaws at her still. Is it possible to go mad from remorse, she wonders. Sometimes, she wishes that on Thaos, for all the suffering he causes her still, only to feel guilty because of that, too. It has never been him, in the end; only her choices. He might have nudged her towards the path, but she was the one who walked it.

She keeps tossing and turning in the sheets, lecturing herself and then pleading, getting angry and then pleading again. At dawn, when she finally falls asleep, exhausted, Thaos greets her with a smile as soon as she closes her eyes.

. . .

No one save for the Steward notices when she slips out of the keep. No one spares her a second glance when she sneaks through the woods, led by her druid friend, her features hidden by a hood and the shining crescent moon on her forehead wrapped in cloth to conceal the dim light.

Hiravias asks, and seems pleasantly surprised by her answer. “It’s high time you rubbed it into his face a little,” he remarks with a grin. “I’m sure Watchers can do that with souls. Other interesting things too, right?”

“Probably.” Eira forces a smile.

He reads her reaction as discomfort at his joke and does not ask again. She feels grateful for the small mercy.

As she is later, when Hiravias agrees to wait outside, disappointed that he will not see the show, but happy enough to chat and flirt with the delemgans. Eira smiles at him and even laughs a little, and descends into Sun in Shadow, feeling more like Thaos’ dutiful apprentice than she ever has. He had taught her to lie all too well.

. . .

The chamber would be dark if not for the eerie glow of adra, much stronger than the little moon on her forehead. There are no longer shapes swimming in the crystal, there are no longer whispers _everywhere_ at the edges of her consciousness – and that is even worse. Her footsteps seem too loud in the still, dusty air; her breath is no longer merely a gust but a _b_ _îaŵac_. Which is true, to some extent. For one soul, at least.

Said soul is nowhere to be seen. Eira turns around slowly, watching each piece of adra, but there are no traces of Thaos anywhere. Did Woedica forgive his defeat so fast? Is he already far away, and she did come here in vain?

“I was wondering if you would visit, Watcher,” speaks a calm voice right behind her.

Of course. Only years of training and combat experience make her whirl around, ready to fight, instead of jumping nervously.

One of the adra pillars becomes translucent – the mist of essence coils and then crests like sea waves – and Thaos steps forth, looking just as she remembers: ceremonial robes; face and grey hair no longer obscured by the mask and the headdress. Only his eyes are the same – always – two pieces of adra – it creates an unnerving impression of looking through him straight into the crystal.

“Well…” Eira shrugs, unsure what to do now that she is here. The whole endeavour seems incredibly foolish now. “I hope I did not disappoint.”

“Ah. That depends on what you will say.” He smiles briefly, his expression something between derisive and amused. “Or did you return to flaunt your triumph?”

“Do you always expect the worst from people?”

“Merely the most probable.” He crosses his arms on his chest. “But no, that’s not what I expect from you.”

For a moment, they keep staring at each other, neither willing to speak. Thaos – because he would never make it easier for her, and Eira – because she does not know how to apologize for what she did.

“I…” she speaks at last, swallowing uncertainty and humiliation. “I am sorry…”

“I am, too.” Thaos shakes his head. “Our last meeting left me thinking there was some hope for you yet,” he adds, his face a perfect image of disappointment and concern, and his voice mocking.

Eira takes a step back, recoiling as if he slapped her.

Thaos smiles; it is cold and sharp, like a blade. “What did you expect, Watcher?” His eyebrows arch. “A penitent sinner?”

“Yes,” she answers, too shocked by his reaction and too upset by knowing she should have guessed what it would be.

“Oh, I am. Ask Woedica.” He does not seem troubled by his predicament, not in the least, and it worries her.

“Did she find the punishment sufficient?” Eira asks quietly, her numb lips stumbling over the words.

Thaos smiles again, clearly amused by her attempt. “It’s not the first time I failed. Perhaps it will be the last.” He shrugs, not bothered by it at all. “Or perhaps not. Woedica knows best if I have outlived my usefulness yet.”

“Looks like you have, given you’re still here.”

“If that was the case, my dear,” he says as his smile turns patronising, “there would be nothing left of my soul for you to talk to.”

Eira slowly closes and reopens her eyes, suddenly feeling on the verge of tears. This is not how she remembers him from another life; this is not how he treated her the last time they met. Her companions, yes – but not her. This is not the man she came to apologize to.

“Surprised at the warm welcome?” His eyebrows arch. “Last time we met, you were a shadow from my past that just happened to be in my way. But then you fought me and put me here. Forgive me for not being friendly, but I am certain you can understand that under the circumstances…”

“Stop it!” Eira’s regret and rage boils over and rise like a wave, ready to crush anything in its wake. “Stop talking or I will…”

“What, Watcher?” Thaos moves closer to the adra surface, tilting his head slightly to the side, like a curious cat. “Make me stop? Crush my soul? You do not have that power. Not anymore. You held my soul in your hands and made a choice. I’d recommend you to learn to live with it.” There is a glint to his eyes; not malice, just… enmity. Perhaps not even that; maybe he is just teaching an unruly student a lesson to learn by heart. “My fate is in Woedica’s hands now. It has always been.”

“How can you still be loyal to her, after…”

“How can you still be loyal to Eothas, after seeing Dyrwood’s history up close?”

“Not all of it was his doing!”

Thaos’ eyes narrow. “Not all of it wasn’t,” he replies calmly, in a tone of someone knowing they have already won the argument.

Eira’s hands curl into fists. “That’s not how I remember you,” she chokes out, trembling with anguish and anger and maybe fear, too.

“No, Watcher.” He meets her gaze, unflinching. His eyes are the colour of adra; it feels like looking into time, like having her own past stare back at her, not even accusing because she is not worthy of that – just reminding. “This is exactly how you remember me. Efficient. You would call it ruthless, I suppose. Many times, you would be right. But look at us now. Think how much have I done during the ages of my service to Woedica. Think of how much have you done – you stopped me and saved Dyrwood, oh yes – and you haven’t moved past it in _years_. Now think of how much more you wanted to do when we met here last.” He gives her another smile; quick, short-lived, blank; as if she was not even worth real spite or contempt. “Perhaps it would be wise to reconsider your strategy.”

Eira is so miserable and furious that she is ready to throw a spell at the adra prison… But she takes a breath and the wrath boils over and evaporates, leaving only bitterness and sorrow. “That’s now how I remember you… master,” she says quietly, trying to find a way to appeal to him, trying her hardest not to refuse him another chance again.

Thaos shakes his head. “This is not going to work on me, apprentice.”

“I know. I’m not saying this for you…” she breaks off, realising she has fallen into another trap. “Call it selfish. Maybe that’s what mercy is.” She grits her teeth, blinking back tears. “But I have to give you this chance to redeem yourself. To be merciful. Maybe just to be kinder.”

“I gave you more than one chance to walk away. I, who you accuse of ruthlessness. What more mercy do you want?” he asks sharply. “You are right; that was not how you remember me. I had not been that kind to Iovara, nor to her followers. And you were just as dangerous as they had been.” He shrugs. “Make of that what you will.”

For a moment, Eira almost finds it in herself to pity him. “It must be lonely, being you.”

He sighs. “I had lifetimes to get used to that, Watcher.” There is no trace of regret or sadness in his voice. “You will not have that much time.”

“I’m not lonely!” she tries to not make her protest sound too fierce so that he would not call it desperate.

“No, you’re not.” The look he gives her is assessing, devoid of all emotions – as if he was examining something and drawing a scientific conclusion – and all the more scary for it. “But you will be.”


End file.
